Chasing Shadows
by 9science
Summary: Knowing the truth... Even now, I remain conflicted. I want— I need— something. Not answers. A chance to grow something new from the ashes, perhaps. Or an excuse, a reason to wash them away. Short glimpses of Itachi and Sasuke's lives, as they struggle to reconnect as brothers. Transposed 'verse.
1. Chapter 1

**Chasing Shadows**

 **A Transposed Interlude**

 _The darkness uncovers  
All of the pain and lies..._

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto.

* * *

 _Knowing the truth... Even now, I remain conflicted. I want— I need— something. Not answers. A chance to grow something new from the ashes, perhaps. Or a reason to wash them away._

* * *

The flutter of wings and a tapping against my window wakes me.

Bleary-eyed, I roll over, staring at the bird sitting on my windowsill, pecking insistently. "What the actual hell?" _Who sends a messenger this time of night?_ A few minutes later, when it becomes apparent the bird won't leave until I open the window and relieve it of the scroll secured to its ankle, I sit up with a groan, covers pooling around my waist.

Bare feet, soundless on the floor— I stride over to the window, yanking it open. I eye the bird skeptically; it stares back, picking at the string tied to its left leg with its beak. _Some sort of corvid... A crow, maybe?_

Untying the string, I retrieve the missive. "Hn." I don't sense a genjutsu, and a lethal contact poison would affect the bird. _Unless it was inert without a second compound, an activator..._ I release an exasperated sigh at my own paranoia, and seeing that the bird has flown off, shut the window with a quiet thump, lowering and shutting the blinds.

"Couldn't it have waited until morning?"

 _Now I'm too curious to go back to sleep._

Breaking the seal reveals an empty sheet of paper. A nagging, half-formed thought at the back of my mind— I activate the sharingan and take a closer look.

Words bleed into existence, black ink stark on the cream background.

The writing— small, meticulously formed kana, seems vaguely familiar. And the words put to paper..?

 _ **Little Bird,**_

I immediately glance down to check the signature. There is none. It's unneeded; only one person besides me should know that nickname. And there are very, very few people that may know the tricky little genjutsu-fuuinjutsu hybrid technique that hides ink from all eyes not carrying the sharingan.

I snort at the audacity of Itachi sending me a letter, but read it in full, committing the words to memory before setting it ablaze with a minor Katon jutsu.

 _ **Little Bird,**_

 _ **Be careful.**_

 _ **You have learned, despite my efforts to the contrary, that things are seldom what they seem at first glance. Considering your jounin sensei's favorite saying, perhaps I should not be so surprised.**_

 _ **Do not look too deeply into the abyss that surrounds that night, and do not trust in the integrity of those that surround the Sandaime. Some of them have long been lost to darkness.**_

 _ **Congratulations on the promotion.**_

 _ **Stay safe and grow strong.**_

The short letter contains nothing I didn't already know, or at least suspect:

Danzou is dangerous. The Hokage's advisors are not to be trusted. And my older brother knows altogether too much about my life considering he is a missing-nin.

 _Still— a missive from Itachi?_ Sending any message is a massive risk, not only for him, but for me. I didn't expect to hear from him until we crossed paths again, if ever. And that he keeps so close an eye on me that he has already heard of my promotion to chuunin rank? It's not as if I yell out my name and rank to every opponent while out of the village.

 _Unnerving_.

I don't know how to feel about any of it; another annoying, recurring mantra in my life.

 _I'll just... t_ _hink about it later._

With a sigh, I crawl back under my comforter, cocooning myself in the safety of my warm, plush bed.

 _Much_ _later._

 _... maybe, never?_

* * *

Sending that letter...

Although he'd been the one to initiate contact, he hadn't expected an answer at all. Especially after several months of silence.

The missive arrives while he is away from Kisame, scouting for their next mission. _Luck or skill_ , he mulls over this thought. _Skill._ He decides. _Sasuke is intelligent enough to instruct the messenger to arrive when I am alone._

He gazes at the salamander, curiosity hidden behind an immovable apathetic mask. The creature stares back, unblinking, trepidation in its large, green eyes. The tense silence stretches for a minute— then two. "Oi. So are you going to take the letter or not?"

 _So, these are the summons Sasuke-kun formed a contract with. Curious— I wonder what_ _they_ _will think when they find out._ He resolves to be present for the revelation if at all possible. It would be interesting to see if this will unsettle 'Leader-sama' and his blue-haired shadow or not. Unless those two are especially petty or paranoid, it is unlikely this will make Sasuke-kun a target. Well, no more than being a close friend with the jinchuuriki of the Kyuubi no Youko will.

"Hn."

Uchiha Itachi extends a hand, and the child-sized being passes the scroll over. Its task completed, it promptly disappears in a puff of grey smoke, muttering under its breath— "Creepy guy... I'd wondered why he went out of his way to warn me."

Itachi feels a flash of amusement at its words. Deft hands quickly open the scroll— _Good. Sasuke-kun took the same precautions—_ and a three-tomoe sharingan flares to life in his eyes.

 _ **Did you know that the collective term for ravens is as an "unkindness" or "conspiracy"? Perhaps not when I first named you Raven-Bird. Of course, crows are even more unlucky: "a murder of crows." ...What interesting messengers you have.**_

 _ **Though it was unnecessary, thank you for the warning nevertheless.**_

And at the bottom, in a shakier, more hesitant script—

 _ **Stay safe, onii-san.**_

A smile, just the slightest twitch of his lips.

 _Cheeky little brother._

He is both relieved and terrified.

Relieved— his brother does not hate him despite the immense amount of effort he's expended trying to inspire exactly that emotion. Terrified, because Sasuke could not, should not, know what he does. His plans have been completely shattered, burned away until not even ash remains, and there is little hope of recovery. Because, if he cannot find redemption in death, if the Uchiha Clan cannot find redemption with Sasuke... What will happen then?

 _Perhaps this changes nothing, in the long run._

 _Though not at Sasuke's hands, I will likely die a traitor's death, regardless..._

He is both relieved and terrified, in equal measure, but none of this shows on his face as flames devour the letter. Perhaps he would send a response... or perhaps not.

 _Time return to work._ His partner is waiting.

* * *

This little snippet is set between chapters 17 and 18 of Transposed. It just didn't quite fit into the main story. More to follow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chasing Shadows**

 **A Transposed Interlude**

 _When you were young and your heart was an open book,_

 _You used to say live and let live._

* * *

 _Summers are problematic,_ he muses, steadfastly ignoring the droplet of sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he does maintenance on his weapons. Whoever designed the layered uniform Akatsuki members wear did not do so with Hi no Kuni summer temperatures in mind. Or he or she was used to an absurd level of heat and humidity— an Ame local, perhaps?

The summer heat combined with the relentless humidity present in Amegakure makes tempers flare, a dangerous prospect for a group of volatile missing-nin. Worse yet, Deidara, already one of the more temperamental members, seems to be particularly inspired during the summer months. Itachi would rather avoid 'accidental' encounters with said artist's work. Deidara loathes him, after all... and it would be a waste of energy.

He chooses to avoid the problem altogether by taking back-to-back missions. Kisame neither complains nor questions him; it's part of the reason why he has grown fond of his partner.

Itachi's choice to be exceptionally busy during the summer certainly isn't because he is quieter, more solemn than usual, and cannot afford for anyone to notice. After all— his birthday is in the summer, as is Sasuke's. And, really, neither day should hold any significance for him anymore.

So he keeps busy— too busy to brood. Too busy to overthink... things. Like the surreal détente with Sasuke. Or life simultaneously falling apart and pulling back together to form a new reality. As usual.

Finishing sharpening his standard-issue kunai, he counts the blades one more time, before packing them away, dark eyes scanning over their makeshift camp. Kisame should be back soon— within the next few hours. In the meantime... Unfortunately, he has little to do besides let his thoughts wander.

Fifteen minutes later, Itachi vaguely regrets wishing for a distraction. The clearing is filled with the excessively cheerful babbling of a small black salamander. The child— for the courier is obviously a young child this time— is unrelenting.

"So you're Sasuke-nii's older brother, right? Right, of course, Mimi-senpai helped me find you, and she's never wrong. You look a lot like him! Or, I guess he looks a lot like you. Are you as scary smart as he is? It's like he always has an answer for any question I can come up with..."

"...Hn." _What an energetic child._

The salamander continues on blithely, "I guess it could be some super Sensei ability. Hey! Can he read minds? Can you? I heard the sharingan can read minds, but Sasuke-nii teased me something awful when I asked him about it."

"Maybe." _Why ruin Sasuke-kun's fun? Hn... but why is she here?_ "Should you not introduce yourself, Salamander-chan?"

The aquamarine spots on the salamanders back flush green, a vivid neon shade. "Oops! Don't tell Sasuke-kun! I really, really wanted to meet you, so he let me deliver this message. I promised I would do a good job... Aa! Getting off topic, getting off topic. Sorry! Call me Kuroi-chan— it' a pleasure to meet you, Uchiha-san!" She bows deeply, fidgeting a little after she rises, and then offers up the scroll clutched in her hand. "Umm. Here it is."

Itachi offers a polite bow in return, and retrieves the missive. "Uchiha Itachi. Thank you for your hard work, Kuroi-chan."

Kuroi smiles widely, bouncing in place, "Aa! You look scary, but you're as nice as Sasuke-kun is! Anyway. I have to get going. Mama's going to have me doing extra training for weeks if I miss class again..."

Itachi fights the urge to smile as the salamander disappears in a cloud of scentless smoke— _Sasuke-kun's allies are an interesting group._

Scrutinizing the scroll he's received. _A storage scroll?_ He considers the seal, turning the idea over in his mind— _trust or distrust? Or, rather, how much trust to place in Sasuke's intentions?_

He activates the seal with a pulse of chakra, and the scroll releases its contents into his hands with a puff of air. A sizeable square container, wrapped in a dark blue cloth, with the pattern of waves embedded on the cloth in white. A short note is pinned to the top, words hidden beneath the genjutsu-fuuinjutsu hybrid that they use to shield their messages from prying eyes.

 _ **Happy Birthday.**_

 _ **Yes, I do remember it was two months ago.**_

 _ **It's belated, but... It was a little difficult to remember what foods you like. And to find a seal that would hold the food in stasis short-term without it spoiling.**_

 _ **Don't worry; I didn't poison anything. That would be a terribly boring way to kill someone, and impinge on my pride as an amateur chef, as well.**_

 _ **Enjoy.**_

Deft hands unwrap the cloth to reveal a three-tiered bento. Careful inspection reveals a lukewarm curry dish— Itachi's nose twitches slightly at the scent of familiar spices, the next section of the container holds onigiri as well as some roasted vegetables, and the final one is packed to the brim with homemade dango.

 _Observant little bird._ He thinks fondly, his ever-present glare softening. _Sasuke-kun._ Considering Sasuke's willingness to communicate, and his words— _forgiveness, of all things?_ — during their last face-to-face meeting, he is willing to believe the food isn't poisoned. Though— it could be pranked, given his little brother's association with Naruto-kun.

Kisame arrives while Itachi is still weighing his options.

"Eh? Is that from an admirer, Itachi? Someone charmed by your pretty-boy looks, maybe?"

"Not really." _One could argue the Kuroi-chan is an admirer._

"Well, is it safe to eat at least? It looks homemade, instead of the standard restaurant crap."

"Hn." _Probably._

"...You're not going to share, are you." The taller man grumbles; it's more of a statement than a question. Kisame's gaze has become distinctly covetous as he eyes the bento, or rather, the food inside.

Itachi stares back coolly, right corner of his mouth twitching into the slightest of smirks before he answers. "Hn." _Not the_ _dango_ _._

"... Creepy-eyed bastard. Hope it is poisoned."

"Cease your petulant muttering." He calmly tosses a single onigiri at Kisame's head. The shark-like man catches it, grinning toothily, and devours his prize with gusto. "Seaweed stuffed onigiri? Not my favorite, but damn. That's quite an admirer you have there, Itachi. Can she make sushi, too? Is she cute? Hell, with cooking skills like that, appearance matters less."

"Hn." _Imagining Sasuke's expression when I inform him of this conversation... I will have to use_ _that_ _technique with my messenger._

"...Well, what about sharing the rest?"

"Get your own." Itachi deadpans, before turning away, bento held protectively in his lap, trying to decide what to taste first.

Kisame sulks until the following afternoon, having spent the morning looming over Itachi with a petulant— most would call it vaguely homicidal— expression as they pack up camp and begin traveling towards their next destination.

* * *

One particularly muggy afternoon in late August, I stagger through the door leading to my bedroom, collapsing on the bed with an exhausted sigh. "Kakashi-sensei is pure, unadulterated evil," I mumble into my blanket with a groan. _My sore muscles will attest to that._ _As would being on the edge of chakra fatigue._ This is not the first time I've collapsed this summer... or even this week.

But today, for the first time, someone reacts to my melodramatics.

The sound of beating wings. Cawing laughter. A large, black bird perched on my headboard—a scroll resting on my pillow.

I glare at the messenger petulantly. "...Caw-aw-aw-awk to you too." _Jerk_. I roll over with a groan, grasping blindly for the scroll. _Contact!_ The paper crinkles slightly as I pull the missive towards me. Tired hands fumble at the string tying it closed. A flicker of chakra to activate the sharingan, and—

 _ **Little Bird,**_

 _ **Thank you for the food; it was much appreciated.**_

 _ **Happy belated birthday to you, as well— I thought of sending something, but was uncertain if the sentiment would be appreciated. Said 'something' is in the seal at the bottom of this letter.**_

 _ **By the way... After just one taste, my partner has developed an infatuation with your cooking. He labors under the misconception that you are female and stated quite plainly that your level of attractiveness would matter little, considering your capabilities in the kitchen.**_

 _ **As your older brother, should I be fighting to protect your virtue?**_

I blink, reading the last half a second time, expression incredulous. "...The hell?" Rolling my eyes with a huff, "What a weird sense of humor." _Why am I not surprised?_ And then, after a few moments of silence, lips curling into a sly smirk, "I wonder what those two would think of Sana-chan?"

* * *

I move to block the strike aimed at my left side, blade turning away the kunai.

"Use your weapon to keep your opponent at a distance." The figure deftly swerves around the chokuto gripped in my hand—an impressive show of flexibility. "Do not limit yourself to defense."

The sharpness of a kunai, its edge just barely touching the skin of my throat. "Or your opponent will use your reach against you instead."

A frustrated sigh, as I nudge aside the hand holding the kunai, stepping away and turning to face my opponent. "Yes, sensei," and then, in a more resigned tone, "Again?" My stomach protests the prospect of more training with an embarrassingly loud growl— it's nearing dinnertime.

Kakashi sensei stifles a chuckle, and shakes his head, slipping the kunai in his hand back into its holster. "No. We're done for the day... Good job."

I blink, started at the praise. At the moment, I'm far better with even taijutsu, certainly not one of my best skills, than I am with a blade. That is not to say I'm bad at taijutsu; merely that I'm better at just about everything else. "...Hn?" I slide my new blade back into its sheath in one smooth motion.

"Maa... Sasuke, you can't expect to master a new weapon in just a few weeks. Uchiha or not, sharingan or not— it takes time and effort to develop calluses, and to build the instincts necessary to react quickly, without thought."

Snorting softly— callouses certainly are starting to develop. "I know." _But I expect more from myself regardless._ Still vaguely embarrassed, but grateful for the praise, I add, "Thank you."

"Hmmmm." Sensei hums, eye narrowing, curving into a crescent. "Make it up to me by cooking dinner again."

"...Freeloader."

"So cruel!"

"Accurate, though. I think I'm going to make stir fry again."

Sensei chuckles, retrieving his copy of _Icha Icha_ from— kami only knows where. I half-suspect he has several storage seals containing copies of that book hidden on his person. "Great! Changing the topic, I was wondering where you found that sword? It's rather long for a chokuto."

"There were enough weapons squirrelled away in the compound that I have quite the collection without dipping into storage... Although this one actually did come from storage. It just seemed—right." I caress the Uchiha clan symbol embedded on the hilt of my blade with my thumb. A wry twist of the lips, hiding a secret, an inside joke. "It's no Kusanagi no Tsurugi, but— I think I like it better anyway."

 _Thank you again, Itachi-nii._

* * *

Mwahahaha...

[Edited for typos, 4-22-2018]


	3. Chapter 3

**Chasing Shadows**

 **A Transposed Interlude**

* * *

 _Black and white melt into grey,  
Till every truth is stripped away.  
When nothing's wrong, nothing's okay—  
Everyone has been betrayed._

* * *

She watches the target as he sleeps, cocooned in a blanket, warm and safe in his bed. The room is still as death, silence disturbed only by the sound of their breaths, stirring the night air. Breathing in... and then back out. Slow. Steady. Synchronized.

A kunai dangles loosely from her fingers. Flip— a reverse grip. The movement is smooth. Silent. Flip— forward again. _Soon,_ she thinks,licking her lips in anticipation, leaning a little farther into the shadowed corner, cloaked in genjutsu.

She almost misses it when her student arrives, melting out of the shadows as skillfully as any Nara. _Hmft. Show off... Although I didn't see his point of entry; that_ _is_ _rather impressive._ Pride, coiling in her guts— they've taught him well.

The brat walks towards the target, every motion fluid, calculated. His steps are soundless. Pausing by the bed, he glances over to her hiding place in the corner. _See me?_ _Here I am, bratling!_ Cold, Uchiha-black eyes gaze back; the boy's face is a blank mask.

Head tilting slightly to the side, like a curious bird, she inches forward to watch.

Green chakra flickers to life on his fingertips as he reaches forward, towards the target. A lightning-fast touch to the throat, and then the chest. _Hmm... The client requested a messy end result. Wonder what he plans to do?_

He seems set on a relatively crude dissection of the recently deceased. She finds herself impressed again, this time by the young Uchiha's resolve, as well as his relatively strong stomach. Killing a target in cold blood is far, far more difficult than killing in the heat of battle. _Still... Eh. Creepy kid. On the other hand, a true psychopath would have probably decided vivisection would be the way to go— slower, more painful,_ _and_ _messier._ Mental illness isn't exactly rare in the shinobi forces, especially for those recruited into more selective groups, like ANBU. There are several high-functioning psychopaths and sociopaths in the service. They're among the best, honestly.

 _Well, we'll see how he handles the aftermath. That's the not-so-secret purpose of this mission, after all._

At the end, the organs are spread throughout the room, the meaty husk that had been the target's body left empty of viscera, splayed carelessly on bloody covers. A macabre starfish.

She almost feels sorry for the unlucky schmuck that will discover the scene come morning.

The Uchiha slips out the window, shutting it behind him. She follows after.

They'll meet soon enough at the rendezvous point.

* * *

I can feel the weight of her gaze. Eyes, watching me. I can hear/see/sense her heartbeat in the woods, a distinctive beat amongst the thrumming rhythms of the native wildlife. Steady, calm, familiar— almost soothing, but not quite. She's been watching the whole time. _I would have preferred Kakashi-sensei as a shadow; he knows a little better how I think... But I suppose being supervised by him would increase the likelihood of someone claiming favoritism._

Then again, hers aren't the only eyes on me.

I gaze thoughtfully at the raven on the other side of the clearing. The familiar, often aggravating, messenger is perched on a boulder. For once, he isn't holding a message—he is the message. _Risky,_ _Itachi, risky. But it's nice to have your implicit support nevertheless. Although this just further emphasizes how much of an obsessive stalker my older brother is... Overprotective, much?_

I've already washed the blood from my hands at a nearby creek. Still, the scent of it lingers— on my skin, on my clothes. I know it will linger even after I shower, after my clothes have been washed clean. I can almost taste it in the air around me. Idly, I wonder how ANBU, particularly those with enhanced senses like Kakashi-sensei and the Inuzuka, cope with this.

I've already washed the blood from my hands—but not from my mind. _Heh. Well, it's always there, isn't it, Sasuke? That ocean of crimson... Ever since that night. It's been there nearly as long as you can remember. Now there are a few drops more, added by you. Not much, in the grand scheme of things._

 _...But why don't I feel more guilt?_

 _Because it was just a mission. Just a target._

 _That thought process is so cold._ A shudder, working its way up my spine. I just can't help thinking that _— I should feel_ _more_ _about this than I do. More conflicted. More regretful._ Haku's face flashes in my mind's eye, expression agonized as the ninja is devoured by fames. _Shit._ I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the vision away.

Reopening them, I gaze upwards, watching the night sky. Fireflies... flickering yellow lights at the corner of my eye. We're deep in the woods. I've built and maintained the fire carefully, to minimize any smoke. No one is hunting us anyway. Not yet; and probably not ever. The target was a civilian, after all.

 _Life, as brief as a firefly's light. Blink— and everything burns away, disappears._

 _Ugh. Getting maudlin again, Sasuke?_

The fire crackles, and the raven calls loudly, startling me from my thoughts. The bird clacks its beak a few times, as if in reprimand, and then takes off into the night. "... Annoying bird."

Dinner— or, well, a late night meal to refill our energy reserves— is almost done, so I call out to my watcher. "Going to come down and eat, Senpai? Or are you planning to stay up there all night, playing voyeur?"

"Ooooo. Now that's tempting!" She doesn't clarify exactly what is tempting, but I'm probably better off not knowing. "With an offer like that, how could a girl refuse?"

"Hn." Nodding to Anko as she appears from within the woods, I retrieve my share of the rabbit, and focus on eating. _I can't decide... Do I wish I had more or less of an appetite?_

Much to my surprise, Anko-senpai abstains from her usual chatter. We finish dinner in silence. I clean up the bones and leftover scraps, and quench the fire. Anko-senpai hides the ashes using an earth-style jutsu.

Afterwards, she turns to face me, addressing me with an imperious tone. "Now... Tell me what you're thinking."

"Hn." I force a playful smirk, acting flippant. "Shouldn't I save my existential angst for the annual psychiatric evaluations? Wouldn't want the village's money to go to waste, right? And my psychiatrist would get awfully bored."

She arches a brow, expression growing more serious, tone equally so, "Uchiha." And then she waits as I gather my thoughts. Watching. Quietly. I mull the words over in my mind before speaking, "We humans are so fragile." _Physically and emotionally._ "I forget sometimes." _Liar._ It lingers, always at the back of my mind. _You think too much, Sasuke. You worry too much and too little, all at once. Your knowledge of a possible future is becoming more useless by the week, the day, the hour, the minute, the second._ I remind myself that— _this is probably for the best._

 _Rambling off topic. Focus, Sasuke._

"I think I should feel... more guilt."

"Oh? But he was a scumbag. Worst of the worst. Even if he was relatively close to your age."

 _And I'm certain that was taken into consideration when this mission was assigned to me._ "Hn." I cord fingers through my bangs, itching to release my hair from the braid. "That is probably why I don't feel guilty. Doesn't stop me from thinking that I  should, however."

"Brat." A kinder tone this time, "Don't act as if you didn't spend ten minutes dry heaving in the bushes." _True enough, but—_ She interrupts my train of thought when she continues, "Don't forget that feeling, but don't let it eat you up from the inside, either."

A weak smile, as I don't really feel like smiling at the moment— "Hn." _I'm not sure that's actually helpful, but... thanks._ "Thanks." I know that Anko-senpai means well.

"Come on, Uchiha brat. Get some rest. We'll finish the trek home come morning... And then the real fun starts."

I give her a pointed look in response— _do you seriously think I can sleep right now?_ She snorts, rolling her eyes. "I said  rest, not sleep."

* * *

The missions come more quickly now that I've been tested and passed. B-rank assassinations, usually with Kakashi-sensei or Anko-senpai as backup, once or twice a month. Soft civilian targets, with a low probability of encountering shinobi. Targets fall to poison, heart attacks, and a few more... 'mysterious' medical ailments. A handful are dealt with using a kunai to the throat or heart.

Miraculously, I manage to avoid the usual Team 7 grade luck.

And so, I settle into a new routine; one not all that different from my previous one. Grueling training, interrupted only by missions. A few evenings socializing with Shino or Ino, and a handful more penning replies to Itachi or Naruto. The occasional late night dinner with Kakashi-sensei, and even more rarely Anko-senpai; force-feeding them with healthy, homemade food. Even more rarely, a free afternoon spent sparring and discussing genjutsu with Hotaru, my second most favorite Aburame.

Eventually, the next challenge comes. A solo assassination— my first. No shadow this time, hidden or otherwise. Less of a safety net.

Exhilarating.

Terrifying.

So, really, par for the course.

The mission goes off without a hitch— no surprise guards, no enemy shinobi, no Oto ambush... yet. Still riding an adrenalin rush, I spend several hours laying convoluted trails through the woods for anyone tracking me— not that I expect anyone to. After all, a middle-aged merchant dying of a heart attack is no great surprise.

Still, I'm understandably tense; the last time I'd been on a solo mission I'd been forced to expend a not-insignificant amount of effort escaping Orochimaru's lackeys... which is why the sudden appearance of a rather cranky raven, a scrap of paper clutched in its claws, has me falling into a defensive position.

The bird circles around me, several long, ponderous loops, before landing within reach.

I eye the familiar raven with trepidation, murmuring, "...Bit early for a letter." I'd received the last one a week ago, and have been too busy to pen a reply.

Still, I retrieve the scrap of paper, activating my sharingan.

One word, written in Itachi's minimalist style.

 _ **Follow.**_

Incinerating the missive as usual, I eye the bird critically. "Really." _I suppose I could_... the mission brief allotted me more time than necessary; I have several hours before I need to head back to Konoha. If I travel at a faster speed— feasible, if a little draining on my chakra stores— I can spend the rest of this afternoon however I wish. Assuming I set out for home around sunset at the latest.

 _Besides,_ I reason, _it would be better to leave scene of the crime in a less suspicious direction, hn? And Oto troops haven't been spotted in this region. It should be reasonably safe, or rather, no more unsafe than average, so I can afford to spend some chakra hurrying home._

The bird stares back at me, fluffing its feathers in agitation, then beats its wings once—twice, and lifts off.

I follow with a resigned sigh. _Who am I kidding? It's not even a question._

Traveling through the trees, trying to keep a single, specific bird in sight is... not truly challenging, but aggravating nonetheless. We travel for perhaps half an hour, before I sense a human heartbeat in the distance—waiting.

A short time after, the raven swoops upwards, and settles on a barren branch— part of a scraggly, dead tree, its naked branches reaching forlornly towards the sky. The tree stands on a small hill, alone.

And, beneath it, there he stands. The sun is behind him, and— standing on the hill as he is— he casts a long shadow in my direction.

A quiet murmur, just loud enough for him to hear, "Itachi... nii." And then, in a bemused tone, "It seems I am chasing after your shadow, as usual."

"Sasuke-kun."

A silence settles between us, neither tense nor content.

"Tsk." I click my tongue, "All that chasing and I still don't know exactly what I want to say." _How sad._ Releasing a self-depreciating chuckle, I shake my head. _Enough of this. Didn't you decide it before? Live in the present and think of the future, Sasuke._ "Well. That's no matter. I wanted to see you anyway."

Life has been incredibly hectic since our confrontation in the village, since that first letter. Enough time has passed for me to start setting things to rights in my head, as much as it is possible. Itachi is my brother, so I'll do my best to treat him as such, even if I vehemently disagree with some of his decisions.

 _Family through blood, but also family of my own choice._

I examine Itachi critically. _Has he lost weight?_ It's visible in his face—the angles are a little sharper. Though that could be due to the stresses of a life on the run, or of living a lie, or... _Could he be ill? Already?_ Someone that saw him regularly likely wouldn't notice, but the sharingan gives the Uchiha, shall we say, an eye for detail.

I decide on the blunt approach. "You've lost weight. Should I be harping at my older brother about his eating habits as I do for my otouto? Need me to send bento with Kuroi-chan more regularly?"

Itachi arches a brow, flicker of amusement in his eyes. The right corner of his mouth twitches— it's the closest thing to a smile I've seen from him since— "Hn. Naruto-kun truly has become a brother in your heart, hasn't he? You're as clingy as ever, Sasuke-kun."

"Damn straight. Neither of you are allowed to keel over until all three of us are as old as the Hokage monument. Older, even."

A pause. "You didn't answer my question, by the way." _I will be persistent, doubly so for those I consider family. Don't doubt me._ "Are you not eating enough, or should I be giving you a physical exam? Somehow I doubt a life on the run allows for annual health checks." _Even from a distance I can tell you're not at a hundred percent._

He's definitely amused now. "My eating habits are fine given the current situation, thank you."

 _Avoidance_.

Suspicion blooms in my mind, and I frown in response. "Hn. I don't believe you. Maybe it's the precedent." _Don't go there, Sasuke. You're not ready to discuss that again. Not yet._ "Fine. Even Tsunade-sama agrees I deserve full accreditation as a medic. I suppose I'll have to be your medic, then, since I doubt you and your current associates have access to a decent one. Be advised that I'm better at battlefield than standard care."

"Hn."

"As shinobi, we're more aware of our bodies, so— symptoms."

Silence, as Itachi stares at me, his face void of emotion. I glare stubbornly back. This is not an argument I'll let him win; I can't afford the consequences. "If it helps, you can think of it as an investment on my part."

"Hn?"

"If I was the sort to, say, pluck out my brother's eyes for whatever reason— which, you should know, I'm not— I'd want to do so after a reasonably fair fight. Which reminds me— try not to overstress your eyes. Even without the sharingan active, it seems to speed up the vision loss." I massage the bridge of my nose, suppressing a sigh. Nerves seem to be making me babble, but at least it is relevant information.

 _Maya-sama said I might need glasses soon, if I'm not careful. Even monitoring my eyes and adding healing chakra during and immediately after using the mangekyou seems to help only a little..._ I trust my summons to be brutally honest in that regard; especially the top specialist in healing and regeneration.

Aniki unbends enough for a small, genuine smile, then. "Hn."

"If having someone who's technically an enemy shinobi monitor your health is so worrisome, I'd point out we're family, regardless of either of our feelings on the matter, and that you arranged to meet me, so you don't have much in the way of argument on that front. Also, several of my summons are under healer's oaths— proper ones... Let them take a look, if you're that paranoid."

"Sasuke-kun, enough." Hints of fond exasperation taint his tone. "Check me over if you want."

I smirk victoriously, and rapidly ascend the hill, joining him below the dead tree. "Stand still." Itachi remains taller than I am, but I seem to be catching up. _Finally!_

Smirk widening when he follows directions, I channel healing chakra to my hands, "I'll ask again—symptoms?"

"Difficulty breathing. Chronic cough... occasionally bringing up blood. Fever, sometimes. Before you ask, I am not currently wounded."

"Hn." _Hemoptysis; never a good sign._ Hands lit a soft green, I scan Itachi's torso for injuries though his clothes. First his back, then sides, and then his chest. It's not the best method— that would require him to be shirtless— but probably the most practical, considering the situation.

A part of my mind starts quietly plotting a way to get Itachi a proper physical exam sometime in the future, ensure he's taking proper care of himself.

I pause, and run my hand over his left side a second time, hovering over the hidden scars. Several years old, at least.

Someone managed to pierce this side with a thin blade at some point. Poor quality metal— shattered against his ribs, left several shards behind in the lower lobe of his left lung. _Possibly the initial cause of an infection._

The rest of the damage evident— internal scarring in the lungs, widening and stiffening of the airways— is likely due to chronic infection, maybe even several episodes of walking pneumonia... There is some amount of cavitation— permanent lung damage.

 _Have to consult with a specialist to consider developing a regeneration technique to regrow lung tissue..._ Although Itachi-nii is probably still young enough to adapt, despite the injury, particularly as a shinobi— high chakra levels and physical fitness make us far more resilient than civilians.

 _Could an incidence of necrotizing pneumonia in the past have caused the cavitation?_ Suppressing a shudder of horror, I continue my mental notes.

 _Currently, a low-grade infection, probably bacterial. No fever yet. A little suppuration._ The bronchiectasis from the recurrent infections is probably the current cause of the hemoptysis— with the necrotizing pneumonia causing it the first time.

 _Will have to monitor for lung abscesses, and for fungal infections, as well. Add a preventive antifungal since he's probably in a humid environment reasonably often._

I step back, letting the jutsu end, and then voice my concerns— in an appropriately blunt way. "The hell have you been doing to your lungs?!" _Idiot. Bastard. Moron. Go to at least a civilian doctor if you're sick!_ I fume in silence, running a hand through my bangs in frustration.

"Impertinent, little brother."

It's not so easy to rile me when I've stepped into the shoes of 'healer'; despite my language, I am a professional. And professionalism is key when dealing with unruly patients. "Hn. Whoever treated this wound," I tap on the scar of the left side of his torso, hidden beneath the layers of clothes, "made a mistake. The shards of metal left over in your lung are the likeliest source of the initial infection. Did anyone treat your pneumonia at all? What antibiotics have you taken in the past? Antifungals?"

 _It's not as if I can determine microbial sensitivity to antibiotics by_ _magic_ _, I'd need a sample and access to a clinical lab. Doubtful I can get either without some suspicion. With that in mind... a strong broad spectrum antibiotic as well as an antifungal for a month, just to be certain. And then something, or several somethings to prevent further infections, until his immune system recovers. I or someone else should remove the metal shards, after having located or developed a jutsu to regrow lung tissue. Maybe the jutsu equivalent of a filtration mask to minimize the likelihood of new infections setting in..._

I listen to his answers— no, he hadn't been treated by a specialist, and had muddled through himself until he began coughing up blood— reading him his marching orders, and providing the aforementioned antibiotic and antifungal drugs. I am nothing if not a packrat when it comes to medicine.

Afterwards, we settle into a contented silence, sitting side-by side, Itachi's summon watching over us.

 _Peaceful_.

Not that either of us is anything less than alert—I have **Eyes of the Raijuu** as well as the rest of my senses straining to the limit, and doubtlessly Itachi is just as focused on our surroundings. It would not do for us to be caught together and not fighting.

Still, it's a little nostalgic.

While I could rarely cajole Itachi-nii into training with me, we often spent time like this before he joined ANBU. In quiet conversation, as much as I was capable of it as a young child, at times playing word games, or just relaxing.

Then again, to the child that I'd once been, Itachi had hung the moon and stars— even sitting together, quiet because the summer heat has sapped away our energy, was...

A thought strikes me. _That's right; it's almost that time of year again, isn't it?_ June 9th is only a few weeks away. _Ah... And I probably shouldn't have been so bossy, too_. Glancing at Itachi from the corner of my eye, I mutter a quiet apology. "Sorry."

"Hn. Silly little brother." Itachi's reply is painfully familiar, as is the tap of fingers on my forehead. _Onii-san. It's been a very long time since you believed anyone cared about you, hasn't it?_

"...Thanks, Itachi-nii."

A half-hour passes, before Itachi stands, sounding vaguely apologetic, "Time for me to go."

"Hn." _I should head out soon, as well._ "Me too. It was... good seeing you. It's a little early this year, but— Happy Birthday."

Much later, when a red salamander the size of a large dog appears in his current lodgings, delivering a sealing scroll from Sasuke, Itachi is surprised that his brother decided that books on philosophy, of all things, would make for an appropriate gift this year.

Surprised, but thankful.

* * *

Sasuke— milestones in his training, and then milestones in life in general. There's a significant gap in time between the two halves of this chapter, but I didn't really feel like splitting them up.

Why that particular meeting? ...Because Itachi wanted to give himself an early birthday present, because Sasuke insists he is a vicious mama bear, and because I don't believe Itachi deserves an ignoble death. (He'd have been Madara-class badass if he ever reached his peak.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Chasing Shadows**

 **A Transposed Interlude**

* * *

 _Trouble on my left,_

 _Trouble on my right,_

 _I've been facing trouble almost all my life._

* * *

 _Is everyone I know a magnet for trouble? Sometimes, I can't help but think I'm cursed to live in interesting times._

A chill crawls down my spine at Naruto's latest message. Scanning through it again, I focus on the words that, frankly speaking, fill me with dread.

 _ **Sensei wants to modify the seal. Says I need to learn to use more of that power, because of those creeps hunting me. (Not that all of them are creeps, probably— some villages treat their shinobi awfully, right? Kiri, with Haku and people like him, for example. I don't like traitors, but does it really count if you're the one betrayed first?)**_

 _ **It's just... that chakra feels unbalanced, Nii-san. It makes me feel unstable. I know I'm probably overthinking things, but the more I use it, the less I feel like me.**_

 _ **What do you think?**_

An aggravated growl claws its way out of my throat. The first thought that comes to mind is— _I think that_ _Jiraiya is an utter bastard. He better be taking appropriate precautions before meddling in something that was probably designed on-the-fly by one of the world's best masters in the field! But no, what am I thinking? He's the sort of person to throw a student off a cliff, to let them figure things out by themselves... Sink or swim._

I'm being paranoid. I know I'm being paranoid, and yet— _Damn. Double damn._ Fuming, I pace tight circles in the living room.

 _What should I do about this?_

 _Should I do anything?_

 _What_ _can_ _I do about this?_

Pausing in mid-step as an idea comes to mind, my expression melts into something more thoughtful instead of outright murderous. _Bijuu are supposed to be susceptible to genjutsu. Maybe sharingan-based genjutsu, in particular? I can't remember the particulars._

 _Right._

 _If something goes wrong I can make contact with Naruto's mindscape, even without using the Mangekyou. Maybe. Hopefully. Having Ino as a teammate– meaning, since she's practiced her jutsu on me—_ _has_ _made me more aware of my own mind._

 _It should work._

 _It_ _will_ _work; I'll bloody well_ _make it work_ _._

"I might be able to act as a safeguard, then. But..."My eyes narrow slightly as I consider the situation. _How to get there without getting a black mark on my record? Or worse, court-martialed and thrown in a dark hole for the rest of my life._ Hidden Villages are not lenient when it comes to their ninja disappearing without notice, regardless of the circumstances. After all, shinobi are more living weapons than soldiers; nobody wants us running amok.

"Aha." A bloodthirsty smirk. "Oh, Jiraiya-san you poor, poor bastard. Now that I think on it— I wonder what Tsunade-sama would think your idea?" Our newly-minted Godaime Hokage is exceptionally fond of Naruto, after all. And despite the long and bloody history between our clans, and all the back-and forth barbed comments and sass, there's no bad blood between us, either.

 _Hn. And if the mission parameters are flexible enough, I could drop in on_ _both_ _Itachi and Naruto..._

 _Not at the same time, mind. That would just be asking for trouble._

* * *

He'd sent the letter to Sasuke-kun over a week and a half ago, with no word back so far. _Nii-san could be out on a mission. Or bogged down with work at the hospital, maybe? Yeah, I'm sure he's super busy!_

 _I'll wait another couple days before sending another one,_ Narutodecides as he slurps down the last of his breakfast Ramen with a cheeky grin— _My favorite food for breakfast! Sasuke would_ _kill_ _me if he knew...—_ and incinerates the incriminating leftovers in the campfire. Ambling over to a sleeping Jiraiya, he nudges the older man none-too-gently with his foot. "Oi. Ero-sensei. You awake?"

His answer is a muffled grumble. They had traveled well into the night, and the older man was not a morning person. At all. "Thought so. I'm going to go train with Kousuke-senpai. And chakra control and writing drills for fuuinjutsu the rest of the day, probably." Another grumble, accompanied by a dismissive wave as the Sannin snuggles further into his sleeping roll.

Naruto rolls his eyes, but grins nevertheless; Jiraiya is great, when he's not stirring up trouble on purpose, or being a perverted stalker, or filching Gama-chan and emptying him out, or...

 _Okay, Jiraiya's a total ass, but he... it's like having a father figure. Or, well, a pervy uncle._

 _Yeah, let's go with that._

A second's focus. His hands form the hand sign reflexively though it's no longer necessary to use his favorite jutsu. A quartet of **Kage Bunshin** appear with a muffled pop, one heading off to tend to the campfire— someone should probably make lunch, after all, and it didn't look like Jiraiya would be willing to do so anytime soon. Nobody enjoys MRE's for lunch. The other three head off towards the trees— chakra control practice while keeping watch.

The blonde teenager pauses beside his pack to retrieve a few snack bars— a delicious mixture of nuts, honey, and chocolate. _Thank you, Sasuke!_ Having snagged something to nosh on later, he backtracks about a mile from camp, back to a clearing they'd passed through yesterday.

" **Kuchiyose no Jutsu**!"

A dark blue toad, head and back peppered with sunny yellow spots, appears in a waft of chakra smoke. Kousuke is a senior messenger toad. Accordingly, his specialties are stealth and speed. And because of his easygoing personality, he is an instructor for younger toads... and often enough for their young summoner, as well. "Good morning, Naruto-kun! The usual routine or do you have a message for me to carry?" The dog-sized amphibian gives a little hop, smiling enthusiastically.

Naruto's grin widens in response. "No messages today, Kousuke-senpai. Just the usual practice, please?"

Kousuke ribbits a toady laugh in response; it's always great fun to watch the young summoner trip over his own feet while attempting to catch him. "Sure, tadpole. I don't mind putting you through your paces. And it looks like you've picked a large enough area for us to work in, this time. Let's start with stretches."

And put Naruto through his paces he does.

It is a demented game of cat and mouse, with Naruto trying to tag Kousuke's spots with a black marker while avoiding the occasional water jutsu spat in his direction. He gloriously fails at the former, but usually succeeds at the latter.

About an hour in, Kousuke has Naruto summon a dozen younger toads, and the younglings alternate in chasing each other while their elder offers advice. Eventually, all but Kousuke have been splashed with mud— the youngest and smallest toads are coated head-to-toe in a muddy slurry— and Naruto is ready for a snack break, having worked through lunch.

It's well past lunchtime when Jiraiya finally makes his presence known. "Oi, gaki, are you done splashing about in the mud?"

Naruto grins. Well over half of him is spattered with mud, some of it in the form of toad palm-prints. He scratches at a particularly impressive streak stretching from his nose to his left ear, "Oh, you're finally up, Ero-sennin. Whatcha want?"

"Such suspicion! Don't you trust your kind and generous shishou, Naruto-kun?"

"No." Naruto deadpans, "Remember that time you ditched me in Nami no Kuni without any notice whatsoever? Or the fiasco in that village on the Kaminari no Kuni border? Or, hmm, I don't know, the time you tossed me off a cliff!"

"Geez, brat, you sure know how to hold a grudge," Jiraiya grumps.

 _Gotta strike the metal while it's hot_! Naruto abruptly switches gears, eyes widening slightly to emphasize his puppyish expression, "... Go over chakra containment seals with me? Pleeeeease? I'm having problems with the third matrix loop."

"Ugh, fine. Show me." The white-haired shinobi grumbles theatrically, but settles beside his student and pulls out a blank scroll. "But then we resume working on your special chakra."

 _You mean the Kyuubi's chakra._

* * *

"Good morning, brat." I wave casually to Naruto from my perch, a tree branch about twenty feet up the road from where he and Jiraiya were camped until about five minutes ago.

"Sasuke-kun?!" Naruto's expression is one of complete shock. _Did he expect I'd just write back and placate him?_

"Oh, I thought you might like a visit, instead of a letter." A sly, teasing smile. "Was I wrong?"

"No, I mean, Yes! I mean... It's great to see you, Nii-san!" Naruto beams, waving enthusiastically. "I didn't think I'd get to see you 'till I got back to Konoha!"

"Oh, I also have to deliver this. It's for Jiraiya-san." My smile turns decidedly more sinister and I brandish a small, cream-colored scroll. "Just a friendly letter from our benevolent Hokage-sama."

"Pushy, overprotective Uchiha-brat." Jiraiya rolls his eyes dramatically, but gestures me closer so I can hand over the scroll.

Beyond the usual "Hn," a beatific smile is my only response; truly, I am the picture of innocence. No lie. Jiraiya scoffs, even as his lips twitch upward. "Fine. I suppose having an extra set of eyes on this brat for a week or two won't be a problem."

I bask in my glorious victory.

* * *

It takes three days of constant badgering and bribery with homemade baked goods for Jiraiya agree to include me in their attempts to access more of the Kyuubi's power. Three days where I fight the urge to set Jiraiya's bedroll on fire when the pair are away from camp. Three days where Naruto practices shaping and controlling that unnatural chakra, each day returning tired and sullen.

 _Kami, the foulness of the chakra that lingers in the air for hours afterwards!_

Jiraiya is bent over a relaxed Naruto, who is lying at the center of a large bowl-like indentation carved into the top of a boulder, an elaborate seal painted around him. "Are you sure you want to be here, Uchiha?" He offers an easy out, as he glances back at me with an unusually serious expression.

I can admit, at least in the privacy of my own mind, that I'd rather be almost anywhere else.

Jiraiya is a master of his trade, but this experimental work. Anything could go wrong: an uncontrolled chakra explosion, the Kyuubi being freed... many lethal possibilities come to mind. And yet, if anything goes wrong— if the Kyuubi devours Naruto's mind, or soul, or something equally foul? I'd never be able to forgive myself if I cowered back in Konoha like a scared puppy.

"Hn. So sure you don't want me here, toad sage?" I quip back with a smirk, meeting his gaze. Three black tomoe spin slowly, hypnotically on a red background. "Consider me just another safeguard." _Naruto is mine to protect._

A dismissive snort. "Fine. Like the gaki blabbed, I'm loosening the limits on his seal, so he can access more of its power." Jiraiya begins to channel chakra, and the seal-script crawls towards Naruto's stomach.

All hell breaks loose.

The air is heavy with chakra and just... a sense of hungry rage. Malevolent chakra boils away from Naruto, leaving dark smears, toxic burns, on the once smooth gray stone he's stretched out on. Jiraiya, much closer to the epicenter than I, is casually tossed through several trees by a giant, translucent crimson claw.

Eyes widening, I twitch reflexively rather than tilt my head aside to dodge the second grasping claw. Red chakra just barely brushes my cheek— I can feel the outermost layers of my skin burning from the contact.

I backtrack rapidly, drawing my chokutou, blade crackling with lightning as it meets a strike from the claw.

And then I don't have any more time to think.

A hunched figure practically materializes in front of me, unearthly roar tearing loose from its throat.

I weave between chakra arms and— _are those tails?!_ — diving sideways to dodge a lunge from the not-Naruto.

I can sense Jiraiya approaching the clearing rapidly as I turn to face my opponent and— sharingan eyes meet eerie, slit-pupiled crimson. As if it wasn't obvious that Naruto isn't in the driver's seat right now.

I feel those five-spoke spirals, red on black, bloom in each eye, despite my previous resolve.

A tightness around my throat.

 _Mangekyou sharingan_.

A slow, even breath hissing past clenched teeth.

A thought— and then I am elsewhere.

"Hell. That was too close." Tension bleeds from my figure as I take in my surroundings. Everything is simultaneously foreign and familiar. I stand beside the colorful exterior of Naruto's favorite Ramen stand, but for some reason it's located almost directly across the street from the house I share with him, familiar Uchiha grounds sprawling behind it.

 _Do I influence Naruto this much? Or is this the edge of my mindscape meeting his?_

I wander about aimlessly, strangely empty of feelings. It is—quiet. Serene, almost. The streets are vacant. No people. No animals. The Hokage mountain looms in the distance. Strangely, it contains a giant cave in place of the Godaime's too-serious face.

Nodding at the dream-logic, I choose that as my destination.

For what feels like hours, I stalk through miles of identical-looking tunnels, ankle-deep in lukewarm water the whole time. Eventually, I reach the entrance to a cavern.

Stepping through, I find the atmosphere warm and humid. Stifling. Like a beast is breathing down the back of my neck, except the whole room evokes the feeling.

The rear of the cavern is filled with an ominous-looking ornate door. It's open; just a small crack. My eyes are drawn to the center of the cavern where, in a bubbling cocoon of crimson chakra, hangs a completely insensate Naruto.

The unnatural, forced calm drains away, and unthinking, I leap. Luckily, the cocoon dissolves at my touch.

" **Hm?"** A deep voice booms. A veritable wave of boiling crimson chakra knocks me back in mid-fall. **"Who dares!"** It takes a creative maneuver to land nimbly on my feet instead of flat on my ass while still maintaining hold of an unconscious Naruto.

 _That unrelenting wrath..._ I may not be shaking visibly, but I'm fucking terrified. I'm neither arrogant nor stupid enough to face the Kyuubi without a drop of fear. Still, courage is persevering despite fear.

I glare at the door defiantly— the source of the crimson chakra, which is just beginning to take a familiar shape. "You're not that intimidating." My deadpan answer echoes throughout the room.

On second thought, maybe my attitude should be described as a perverse lack of self-preservation.

The Kyuubi guffaws in response, deep laughter literally shaking our surroundings. "Those defiant eyes, that repulsive chakra… Of course it would be one of you insects. I'm so glad for the opportunity to kill you."

While it— he? — speaks, I take the second's reprieve to try and shake Naruto awake, and— blink.

Blue eyes. A clawed hand grips my throat tightly— _too tightly, there will definitely be damage from the pressure alone_. The grip loosens as Naruto's eyes roll backwards, and I scramble to catch my unconscious little brother as he collapses. _Shit_ _. I'm lucky he didn't snap my neck; I must have caught him just in time._

A breath.

"So..." I rasp painfully, after choking back a scream— normal chakra burns are excruciatingly painful, especially if you get them somewhere sensitive. Those caused by a Bijuu's chakra feel to be ten-fold worse. I'm peering over Naruto's head at a blank-faced Jiraiya, who's holding a paper seal pressed to the blonde's naked back. "That went well."

* * *

Naruto wakes early, much earlier than usual for a day off.

What happened when Jiraiya-sensei messed with his seal? He'd been fuzzy-headed and confused when he woke half a day later, and they'd been miles from where the 'experiment' had happened.

Ero-sennin had a few superficial injuries, mostly scrapes which have already healed. Sasuke had been worse off— whatever happened resulted in a neck swathed in bandages. Worse, the damage to his throat left him either unable or unwilling to speak for long periods of time.

 _Sensei isn't talking either._ And with the amount of time he spent away from camp, it almost seems Jiraiya is avoiding them.

A quick glance around the camp proves that Jiraiya is already gone for the day, doing only Kami knows what with Kami knows who. _Or maybe he didn't come back last night? Urgh... Well. At least he's given up on the Kyuubi thing for now._

It's not even dawn, but— Sasuke is up and about, fiddling with something in his backpack. _Fresh bandages maybe?_ He watches discreetly, eyes half-lidded, ready to feign sleep if his brother pays him any attention. He doesn't, but it's likely Sasuke knows Naruto is awake anyway; it's incredibly difficult to control your own heartbeat.

Though it's been several days, he hasn't really had the chance to pester Sasuke about what happened. Not that Sasuke seemed up to talking—even 'hn' are rare at the moment. At least his genin teammates had drilled him in Konoha-standard sign language, so Naruto understood Sasuke-nii when he replied using it.

Naruto waits fifteen minutes before following Sasuke. After summoning a toad to keep an eye on their things at camp, of course.

It's a challenge. Naruto knows what the limits of the older shinobi's sensing technique were nearly two years ago, and tries to stay even further behind him, just in case. _Nii-san is much harder to track through the woods than he was two years ago,_ Naruto admits, as he's forced to depend almost exclusively on his nose and chakra-sensing abilities rather than his eyes.

Even with how much he's improved, it seems Sasuke's skills as a sensor have advanced even further. He knows his Nii-san is aware of who is tracking him, long before he finds the clearing that is the Uchiha's destination. Each fresh spiral deliberately carved into a tree trunk is a mark pointing out when Sasuke could detect him, and a hit to his pride.

And that is exactly why Naruto freezes in shock when he slips into the clearing.

Because Sasuke is not alone.

Because Naruto can tell that, whatever fight occurred earlier— grass crushed underfoot, a handful of scattered shuriken embedded in the branches of a nearby oak, the lingering scent of smoke— was not an actual, life-and-death conflict but a friendly spar. Sasuke's body language is as relaxed as it gets outside of the village... and he's smiling. It is an honest smile, not a mask to unsettle his enemies.

 _Well, this is awkward._ He thinks, and then, trying to end the uncomfortable silence that had settled in the clearing since he intruded, repeats the thought out loud. "Well, this is awkward. Sasuke, you..." Naruto trails off, suddenly finding he has too much to say and no idea how to say it, exactly. Anger, surprise, embarrassment— eventually, his face settles on an expression of confusion.

Two pairs of Uchiha black eyes, stare back at him from unsettlingly similar faces. Even if Naruto hadn't encountered Uchiha Itachi before, the pair's close blood ties would be obvious. The expected "Hn," comes in stereo.

Finally, the younger Uchiha's expression melts into a sheepish smile, "Took you a while. Would have told you, but..." With a slight grimace, Sasuke gestures towards his throat. His voice sounds better than immediately after the incident, but still more gravely than usual. "Mail isn't quite private enough, considering who you travel with."

Naruto huffs, but nods his acceptance of the excuse. "Yeah, okay. I suppose I get that." _Even if I don't like it_. But Jiraiya  has been snooping through his mail for teasing material. Definitely his letters from Hinata-chan. Probably. _I'll bring it up later, when we're not around your maybe-crazy definitely-terrifyingly-skilled older brother._

"You led Naruto-kun here on purpose; we are not close to their current camp," the older Uchiha murmurs. _And isn't_ _that_ _a terrifying thought? The fact that Akatsuki know where sensei and I are._

"We're not," is Sasuke's even reply, "Naruto couldn't control his curiosity."

Said blonde gets the unsettling feeling he's being laughed at. He fidgets slightly; it's his turn to look sheepish. "Yeah, um... what?"

"It's obvious." Sasuke drawls. The Uchiha brothers are standing side by side, separated by two feet, at best.

Another awkward silence.

The younger Uchiha clears his throat, gesturing towards Itachi. "Naruto-kun... my older brother, Uchiha Itachi."

"We've met." Naruto deadpans, before forcing himself to relax slightly, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to ease the tension gathering there. "But I suppose if you're talking to him, he's probably not all bad." _You know. When he's not running around with a bunch of psychopaths trying to kill me. Or trying to trap_ _you_ _in some horrible mind-killing illusion._

"Hn," is Sasuke's noncommittal reply.

 _I'm not sure how this could get any more awkward... No wait! I take it back. Jiraiya could have followed me. I could get Sasuke-nii court-martialed. Oh Kami, if this gets out,_ _I_ _could get court-martialed!_

"I should be going. Train hard, Sasuke-kun. Naruto-kun," the older Uchiha intones, the 'you'll need it soon' is strongly implied.

"Safe travels." Sasuke replies, and Itachi flickers out of the clearing, no sign he'd been there besides the singed grass from the Uchihas' spar.

"...Your brother is weird."

* * *

So, this is it. The end of Chasing Shadows. (Are we taking odds on Jiraiya knowing about the Uchiha brothers meeting all along? I'm thinking— maybe.)

I had awful, awful writer's block on Transposed 'verse stuff. (Obviously.)

On the plus side, I made the sequel to Transposed my NaNoWriMo project... in November 2016. (How embarrassing.) But! That means there are 50k words of the sequel already written. (There was a lot of maniacal laughter while I was writing, too. Although I plan to rewrite parts of it, and it's far from done.) I guess you can expect that in the hopefully-immediate future.

(You know what? Screw my initial plans. I'm just going to post the sequel's first chapter next week and then go back to struggling with Tempestuous.)


End file.
